Royally Feminine
by elven spirit9
Summary: During a day out in the woods, Legolas asks an important question. I don't own LOTR.


Royally Feminine

Royally Feminine

The morning air was clear and crisp, this morning being one of the first sunny mornings since the breaking of the Mirkwood winter. The weather had resulted in a long winter for the royal household, mostly cooped up within the walls of their underground fortress. Such lodgings were quite unusual for the nature-loving race; most the kingdom's population lived in the enormous trees for which the forest was famous. King Thranduil was not an ordinary Sindarian elf, in many ways. He was not troubled by the months that had passed since he had walked, for any great length of time, in his forest. His young son, Legolas, was by all means ordinary when it came to an elf's opinion of a cave. The elfling had too much of his mother's Silvan blood. Thranduil had loved his Mariel dearly, but had never fully understood her complete and unwavering refusal to enter the cavernous complex of the Mirkwood palace. The Silvan was perhaps the most steadfast of the elven strains in their love of nature and for the trees.

The Elvenking saw more than a little of his wife's character in his son. When one of the tallest and fairest of Mirkwood's great trees became entangled in the structure of the fortress, Mariel had set an enchantment upon it, saving the towering tree from death and binding it as a part of the complex for the entirety of the stronghold's life. A result of the enchantment was a small opening in the side of the old tree's wide and hollow trunk. Over time the tree had healed, but it would still reopen the wound for any that wished entry. Any who happened to be small enough to force their way into a hole similar in size to the one that led to the ducts that connected the ground to the great chandeliers of the throne room halls.

Legolas had proved many times that he was small enough to fit into those ducts. He had also decided to take it upon himself on one such occasion to prove that he could swing from said fifty foot chandelier without falling. Needless to say, the Elvenking remembered the incident.

The elfling had settled himself with access to the tree, but now that the weather had turned, he had dragged Thranduil away from his desk, insisting that a walk outside was a far more useful way of spending a morning.

He watched his son now from the shade of one of the beech trees. They had walked to the recently thawed 'Many Lakes', named for the clearing's numerous small lakes. Legolas sat on the rocky beach of the nearest with his newfound rabbit companion, who sat in his lap happily eating the grass the elfling gave him. True and deep understanding of animals was half hereditary, half learned. Legolas had only recently reached the point of mutual respect with the animal world, and was thrilled with every new animal that walked across his path.

With one last wildflower left for the furry friend, Legolas joined his father for his own lunch. Thranduil was glad to see the child had, by all appearances, calmed his joy at his first day unleashed upon the natural world since the onset of the snow. During the winter the pass to the lakesbecame an impassible trail of treacherous ice.

"Ada." His small voice was comparable to what Thranduil imagined a squirrel would sound like if they could speak. "I have an important question."

Thranduil momentarily panicked, hoping his still young son had no questions of _that_ variety to be asking!

"Why do you wear purple?"

The Elvenking blinked, for a moment too surprised by the strange nature of his son's question to think of an answer. "Why do you ask?" he countered.

"Girls wear purple."

"If only girls wear purple, then why do I?"

"Ada, that is exactly what I asked." The child's exasperated tone so matched Thranduil's own voice he could have sworn he was mimicking him.

He ran a hand through his long blonde hair. "Legolas, why do we have colors?"

"To make the world more interesting."

"Yes… and why else?" When no response seemed forthcoming, he wrapped an arm around his son. "How do we tell different horses apart?"

"By color."

"Yes, so color can be used to tell things apart, right?" Legolas nodded. "What does blue represent?"

"Peace."

"Yes. Now, what does purple represent?" The elfling shrugged "Royalty."

Legolas cocked his head. "But males are kings. So why do we wear girl colors?"

"In the days of the first kings, purple dye was rare and difficult to produce, so it was traditionally reserved for the king, for its production was extremely expensive."

The child shrugged, seeming to have little interest left in the subject. Thranduil studied him, shaking his head. He often asked such questions; he thought he would be getting used to them. The Elvenking had never had a lot of contact with young elflings, and now, with the death of his wife, his bewildering young son was his entire focus. He knew there would be many more such questions in the future. Besides, he had other question to look forward to, didn't he?


End file.
